Innocent
by Harlow Groom
Summary: The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, and people are being petrified. Can Potter convince Dumbledore that he wasn't involved? Disclaimer: I don't own HP or anything to do with it. That privilege belongs to JKR.


"It's not up to me," Professor McGonagall sighed, as Harry pleaded with her. This was the third person who'd been petrified, and with Harry found at the scene of all of them, it was getting harder and harder to believe he was completely innocent. It was down to the Headmaster now.

Professor McGonagall walked Harry toward an alcove which housed a Gargoyle. Harry stood in front of the Gargoyle, nervous that he may be walking toward a lifetime of detention, or worse.

"Sherbert Lemon," said McGonagall, and with a wave of her hands, the gargoyle moved aside, revealing a slowly ascending circular staircase. Professor McGonagall left Harry at the double oaken doors at the top of the stairs, which Harry entered, ready to plead his innocence.

Dumbledore was sat behind a large mahogany desk, waiting for Harry to arrive.

"I didn't do it, Professor," Harry immediately protested, but Dumbledore waved his hands, silencing him mid-sentence.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore said, "You have to admit, it does look rather suspicious. After all, you have been at the scenes of all three petrifications..."

Harry's eyes started to fill with tears. How would he convince him that he wasn't involved?

"I promise, Professor, I really didn't do it. I really am innocent!"

Dumbledore got up, and walked around to the front, perching on a corner of his beautiful mahogony desk.

"Innocent, Harry..." He said questioningly. "That is an interesting choice of words. Maybe you are innocent, but how would I know?"

"Umm..." Harry stuttered, trying to grab something, some piece of reasoning that could help him. But his lips, like his brain, fell silent as he hung his head and sighed. "...I just am." Harry finally mumbled.

"Just how far would you be willing to go to prove your innocence, I wonder?" Dumbledore said, looking the young boy up and down.

Harry sighed. He had been down this road before. He knew what was expected of him, and just how he would get out of this. He knew just what help from Dumbledore entailed.

"Nothing comes for free," The old man's voice whispered in his head. Harry shook his head to dislodge his voice, before walking over to him and kneeling down in front of the mahogany desk.

Silent, Dumbledore leaned back, spreading his robes exposing the bulge in his trousers. Despite himself, Harry found his nostrils flaring, desperate to get the slightest hint of the scent of the Headmaster's arousal. He tried to contain his anticipation, slowly removing Dumbledore's trousers, and letting his cock spring free.

Harry closed his eyes, taking in the scent, but trying not to make it too obvious that he did quite enjoy their little visits. He knew how disappointed Dumbledore would be if he thought that this wasn't actually his idea, but that Harry was manipulating situations to get back to this place. Slowly, Harry engulfed him, bobbing up and down slowly and gently at first; too slowly, because he knew how frustrated his headmaster would get, and that soon, he would take charge.

After what felt like an eternity to Dumbledore, an eternity of gentle tickles from the young boy's tongue, he grabbed a fist full of his black hair, pushing his cock deeper into Harry's mouth. He was gentle at first, but then picked up speed. The boy's mouth was a hot, wet cavern, and the suction was incredible.

"I've taught you well," Dumbledore grunted, increasing speed, and stifling his moans as he tugged even harder at the boy's hair, using it to pull him closer.

The door slammed open.

Hagrid burst in. "Professor!" He demanded. "Professor Dumbledore Sir, I know Harry didn't do it, Sir, I would swear it!" He stuttered, finally looking up and pausing, trying to process what he is seeing: the boy on his knees, his black hair entwined in the Professor's aged fingers, his mouth completely filled, and saliva dripping down his chin.

"Yes, Hagrid," Dumbledore replied. "Harry was just proving his innocence to me. I think I am convinced, but maybe, when he's finished, you may need some convincing too?" he asked calmly.

"Um, well, yes Sir, come to think of it, I do have a few doubts..." The groundskeeper replied, as a bulge appeared in his trousers. "Maybe you could explain it to me too, when you're done there, Harry." He said, nodding toward the boy.

Harry nodded. It was going to be a long afternoon.


End file.
